This morning I went to town to participate with a group of walkers/runners who jog 3 miles each Saturday. The church is directly on my route and as I passed it, I once again thought of how much I still really desired some pumpkins. I kept going, walked my miles, and got in my car to go home. Needless to say, I passed the church-again. I saw a lot of cars there so thought this may be my chance, but then chickened out. Many people may not realize it, but I am incredibly shy. I do not like to be in front of groups of adults and would much rather hug the wall in a room than the center of the floor. It takes a great deal of courage for me to walk into a people filled space by myself, and even more to pull into a church parking lot where I don't know anyone and ask them if I may buy some of their pumpkins. I literally circled the block three times trying to get up the nerve to pull in, and finally decided I would just do without any decorations this year. I was mentally rationalizing how it is too close to Thanksgiving for me to decorate, and I should just move on to Christmas. In that moment, I heard so clearly, "turn around." I felt it in my gut. I heard it in my heart. I kept driving trying to dismiss it and heard it again. I kept driving. The feeling was stronger and my head was filled with, "Brandi Webb! You turn this car around! You are missing out on a great blessing!"
I turned around.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw people walking out of the church just as quickly as they walked in. I wasn't sure what was going on, I was just looking for someone whom I could throw my money at so I could high-tail it outta there! During the two minutes it took me to park my car and step into the parking lot, there was no one to be found. I was thinking about the awkwardness of approaching a complete stranger just to ask about a pumpkin. I was overcome with timidity, but chose to put one foot in front of the other and go for it. As I walked inside, I saw a friendly face whom I asked about the pumpkins. She told me she would go find someone who knew. I waited for just a moment when a few more people walked in from outside. The friendly face returned and she told me, "I was told that we are trying to get rid of the pumpkins, so please, take whatever you like for a donation of your choice." I was ecstatic! I began looking at a basket of baby pumpkins that I was hoping to use for my classroom, and she said, "Just take the whole basket! And pick out whatever ones you want, we really want to get rid of them!" Inside I was jumping up and down! I loaded up the basket and allowed my eyes to fall on the others. I slowly and meticulously picked out five large pumpkins. I looked at every ridge, inspected every arch and picked up each one to feel its weight. One by one. I gently loaded each pumpkin into my vehicle and with every single one, could not help but feel thankful. The whole time I was carefully selecting these fall prizes, I noticed cars entering and leaving the parking lot. I did not recognize any of the people getting out of or into those cars, and still wasn't quite sure what they were doing there. As I walked inside to give them my donation, I received the second blessing.
A couple of people arrived and entered the church about the time I did. As I walked inside and down the stairs to find the friendly face, I entered the doorway to the fellowship hall. There I found other friendly faces. These faces had the sweetest, most genuine smiles I have ever seen. It isn't often that one sees people smile anymore-really smile. I quickly realized that the people leaving just as quickly as they arrived were being loved on that morning as well. Perhaps their need was not pumpkins, but one significant to them for that moment. Food. The church had opened their pantry and was giving to those in need. Right before my eyes, in my community, I saw someone being Jesus' hands and feet. It was beautiful. It put a smile on my face as real as the friendly faces. I was humbled.
Our community is one of great need. I see hungry children in my classroom every day. Children who I'd wager money on the fact they do not eat all weekend. Children who are ravenous by snack time at 10:30, who clean their plate at lunch and are almost begging for someone else's. Children who come to school with no socks and the same smelly, stained t-shirt day after day. Children who have a circle of space around them rather than people because of their stench. Children who in the "greatest country in the world" are the least of these. Children I want so desperately to take home and care for and tell them of our Great Provider. Children I pray for every night asking protection over them and that one day, they would be able to know the love of Jesus and a new life, free from poverty. Children who need churches that open their pantry.
I got into my car and squalled like a baby. I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with my sweet Papa. Overwhelmed that as I approach my very first Thanksgiving away from my children, He chooses to be so gentle and persistent to remind me "He's got this." He holds me in the palm of His hand and I am His beloved. He has dreams for me I could never imagine and is ALWAYS faithful to make beauty from ashes. He gave me something so insignificant as pumpkins to remind me that I am His pumpkin and He sees me right where I am. In Perry, Florida. Dreaming of the day when I can really smile and all of the pieces of my heart are put back together and made new. I hurt when people say that God does not care about the little things. He could not care more. He could not love you more. He loves you to the moon and back. To the depths of the sea and the highest mountain. He loves you enough to whisper in your ear and guide you into a moment where you will see His face. He loves you enough to meet your deepest need every single moment. Even if that need is something so simple as a basket of pumpkins.
